New Cammie
by WordsCantBringMeDown
Summary: Different ending to "Don't Judge a Girl by her Cover" What would have happened if the spie-people eloquent i know had capture cammy? What is she was bad-ass enough to win?
1. Chapter 1: Help

**Hello, this is a just a one-shot. I wished the end of **_**Don't Judge a Girl by her Cover**_** had ended this way**_**;**_** we would have gotten a bit more action! (This story takes place at the end of the book when the spies in the van tried to capture Cammie.) Enjoy.**

"Macey! Macey, run!" I screeched, grunting as an attacker kicked my chest, breaking a rib. I had to duck to avoid another kick, my leg swept out, knocking them to the ground. The woman came up behind me, trying to grab me from behind; I elbowed her in the throat. My initial attacker was getting up now. With a careful blow to the back of the head, he was back down.

Two more were coming up. My mind shut down, instinct taking over. The fighting became a dance. I ducked and side-stepped, landing kicks and punches while they tried to grab at me. The female was getting up, but I was more than preoccupied with my current fight. She looped her arm around my waist, picking me up. I elbowed, squirmed and punched, just as my gym teacher had taught me, landing in a crouch on the ground.

"Just get her!" one yelled. _Get her. Get her. _I stopped for a moment, shuddering. That was all it took. One grabbed my legs, the other's arm wrapped around my chest. I struggled furiously, desperate to get away.

I was good.

They were better.

I was thrown into the back of the van, all but one following. The van was bear inside, no seats or windows. I did see a black bag and, glinting in the dim lights overhead, was a knife. I was about to dive for it, but hesitated. The way they watched me, like a wild animal, made me think.

They were clearly good fighters. They were strong and trained well. But I had to get out. So I stalled.

"What do you want me for? Nobody's going to pay ransom, I'm not famous, just a normal girl," I asked; clinging to my cover for dear life.

"You're the farthest thing from a normal girl there is. You're a pavement artist, the best there is, I hear." The van rumbled to life. It jerked forward.

I thought of my mother, my teachers and knew I needed to get out _soon._ "I don't have a clue," we took a sharp left, "what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't, Cameron."

"Listen here-…" I was cut off.

"Shut up!"

The van lurched to a stop and I took my chance. I punched the woman in her throat, and then followed it with a round-house kick, breaking her clavicle. She cried out in pain but I was already onto the next of my attackers. With a grunt I jumped (nearly hitting my head on the low ceiling of the van) and, turning in the air, kicked two of them at once. Bex would be proud. The woman scrambled up.

"You BITCH!" she charged at me like an enraged bull. Anger makes people do stupid things.

She slammed into the back doors of the can with suck force they burst open. For a fleeting second I thought she would fall out. Another one of the men grabbed her, pulling her back in.

I jumped. My elbow slammed into the back of his head. He doubled over onto his hands and knees. Coughing blood. I kicked him square on his but. He flew from the fan with a terrible, high-pitched scream.

"Joe!" The woman cried. She rushed toward me. I crouched down, side-stepping. She jumped catching the swinging door. I

I had no time to finish her because the last guy left in the van was retrieving a gun from the black bag. And she was pointing it at me.

He fired.

One.

Two.

Three.

I screamed dropping to my knees as I clutched at my bleeding stomach.

Four.

Five.

I fell sideways.

Six

Seven shots were fired, the disgusting smell of gun powder mixing with the coppery sent of my blood.

The man came towards me, dropping his gun.

I was in pain, the most terrible pain in my life. And I was angry, very, very angry.

I launched myself at him. My fingers plunged into his eyes, my bloody hand twitched forward, colliding with his stomach. I grabbed him by the hair and threw (Superwoman!) him out into the night. The woman shrieked. I picked up the gun and, with the last bullet, shot her.

I al most didn't feel the pain anymore, I only felt light, careless.

The front was separated by a thin panel of glass. I grabbed the knife from the black bag. With all my strength I smashed my hand into the window. It broke. So did my hand.

I didn't care. I climbed into the front of the van.

"Bye, bye," I muttered. I reached across him to open the door. He punched my stomach. I felt the pain again. A hot, sharp stab of pain made me gasp. I unlatched the door and pushed him out. As I climbed into the diver seat, trying to gain control of the swerving van, my leg was smashed in the closing door. I was past feeling pain.

I don't remember the ride back, but I do remember how I tried to stop but couldn't. I slammed into the brick wall of the building.

My head smashed into the steering wheel. I thought idly how I should have worn a seat belt.

I stumbled from the smoking car into the main hall of the building. Everyone there was already hurrying toward the door.

One word escaped my mouth before I fell. "Help." Maybe Bex wouldn't be sp proud after all.

**Zach.**

"_Help." _

I was already running toward the door, investigating what had hit the building, when Cammie stumbled into the busy room, a trail of blood glistening behind her. Blood poured from her stomach, which she clutched desperately. Her leg stuck out at an odd angle, obviously broken. Her lip was swollen and bleeding as was a large gash from her temple to her jaw line that oozed blood as well. Cammie was going to die.

The thought hit me hard. I pushed it away furiously as I pushed and jumped around people. I was the first to reach her as she lie helplessly on the floor. I almost slipped in the rapidly pooling blood that was being leaked onto the floor. Cammie mumbled aimlessly.

"Cam!" I cried, voice breaking. Cammie was strong; she was always put together, never stepped down. Now she lay broken. But it was me, Zachary the spy, whose eyes were filled with tears.

Cammie's mother rushed forward trying to brush me away but I held my ground. I needed to keep her safe when she couldn't defend herself. Needed to make sure they didn't come back for her.

Her mother called to the others. Teachers came. Bex and Macey.

"We need to get her upstairs." I slipped my arms underneath her now fragile form, lifting her easily. She tensed clearly in pain until her eyes focused and came to rest on my face.

"Zach." Her voice was filled with such pain and fear my knees grew weak. Her body relaxed against me. "Goodnight," she sighed, her eyes closing as her head lolled to rest against my chest. Warmth spread over me. At first I thought it was her nearness to me. The feeling of security that ussualy swept over me. The feeling of home my mother never provided me with. Then I realized it war her blood, it's warm wetness seeping through my clothes.

"Don't let her sleep!" Came her mother's frantic voice. So I rocked her. I rocked her like my nanny used to rock me to sleep when I missed my parents.

"Cam, Cam, wake up… I have a secret to tell you." I whispered into her bleeding ear, knowing nothing intrigued her more then unraveling the unknown. She stirred, looking vaguely confused. "Don't you want to know a secret about me?"

Her eyes finally became the sharp, alert pools I knew. I thought she was about the answer before she gasped. "I can't breathe!"

I panicked, looking around franticly. We were coming to a door. The plate on the front proclaimed it to be 'the presidential suit.'

"We can tend to her here." Someone said. I kicked the door right if it hinges, being careful not to jostle her. I walked into the room and, looking around, and took in every detail without having to try. It was the killer in me.

"You can put her here, sweetheart," Cammie's mom choked. She motioned to the large bed in the middle of the room.

Cammie winced as I put her down. I was soaked in her blood. I didn't think anyone had this much to give. A man bustled into the room. He wore a lab coat and glasses. He had been a teacher at Gallagher, Liz's favorite.

He swept his hand over her.

"Just a second…" he muttered. Then his eyes bulged out of his head. He cleared his throat before saying "two broken ribs, three bones broken in her left wrist, her right leg is broken too. A bad laceration on her temple and a number of bullets imbedded in her stomach. Hmm, one, three, six. Seven bullet wounds."

"SEVEN!" I exploded.

Cam's mom threw herself over me, jumping to grab hold of cam's limp hand.

"Please, sweetheart, please." her mom, one of the best spies in the world, cried.

Several men and woman came rushing into the room. I jumped up, ready to fight. But they were only ambulance volunteers. They swarmed around her, wrapping her head in a bandage, pressing a wad of cloth to her midsection. When they lifted her onto the gurney her shrill scream made my flinch.

"MOVE!" Bex was fighting to get to Cammie with Macey, Liz stood behind them looking scared but determined. They finally broke through. Bex ran to her pushing at the Ambulance workers.

"It's ok, you're going to be-be fine. I promise." A single tear fell from Bex onto Cammie's face.

"I hope so," she croaked back. Liz lost it, she crumpled.

All I could do was watch as hey loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Bex, Liz, Macey and her mom all went with her. I turned my back on the bright lights that flashed across my face. I prayed for the first time in my life as the wailing siren of the vehicle that carried the one person I loved away from me.

**Cammie**

There was noise. I thought maybe someone was talking to me but there was no way to be sure. I could only hear the muffled the voices of people around me.

"New technology, going to revolutionize the medical field. You merely implant cereberal architectures into the brain and, with the sweep of your hand; a doctor will have his patient's diagnosis. I'm curious as to…."

His voice dimmed, replaced by a vague hum. Everything seemed to be muffled. I couldn't see anything, only blurry black dots that dance across my vision. I was grateful though, because not only were my senses dulled, but my ability to feel pain was dimming.

I couldn't bring myself to be frightened or worried. I merely knew I was hurt; it wasn't like I was going to die or anything. Right? I couldn't bring myself to care much either way. My eyes were drifting closed now, they felt so heavy. Could eyelids be fat? I didn't think so, maybe someone was pressing on them….

Then I felt pain again. The van lurched then slammed to a top, sending someone sprawling around and onto me. They fell across my stomach and I couldn't hold in the gasp of pain that escaped my ragged body. I only had a millisecond to regret the loss of the beautiful numbness that now eluded me.

Pain racked through me ass I was thrown sideways, falling from the bed they had failed to strap me to. I tried to take a deep breath, only to gag on something. I looked down in time to see the blood flow from my mouth, over my pail hands, and to the floor.

A loud bang caused me to whip my body around. Or, at least 'whipped' is what it felt like to me. I was moving sluggishly. Each movement terrifyingly painful, dangerously slow. When I finally turned enough to have a clear view of the double doors at the back I screamed at what I saw. Dents were forming in the metal on either side of me. But that was nothing compare to what was coming through the once sealed door. The woman who I had shot was climbing in. She looked horrible, bloody and beaten everywhere but her eyes, which blazed with furry.

Somewhere behind me I heard Liz whisper, "help."

And I fell gratefully into oblivion.

**Hoped you liked it.**


	2. Chapter 2: Darby Ann Roberts

**Sorry it took so long for me to update. Between finals week (all honors is a bitch) and my life has been pretty hectic. Good job Starlites for their numerous wins in team at AYOP! And to all of my team members for the solo wins as well! This chapter has been a long time coming; I hope it is worth the wait.**

**Cammie**

I was first aware of the smell. The burning, slightly tangy sent of smelling salts. Then I found my eyes and tried to open the heavy lids barring my vision. Once I heaved them back I was greeted with more darkness, this time peppered with the shiny, flickering light of the stars. With sight came the memory of tonight's previous events. But I felt no pain. Only an odd numbness accompanied the taste of blood. My blood. I tried to sit up, only to fall back; hitting my head hard on what I later found out was pavement. But it didn't hurt, the bump only made me very, very sleepy. Might as well take a nap. Why not?

**A woman whose current alias is Darby Ann Roberts. She may or may not have been a CIA agent. Or a British spy. Who can tell?**

"We need this girl!" She yelled at the people who stare at her from their seats at the large mahogany table. "None of you go home tonight! This girl is to be found before they get her to her Father. If he gives the information then we're all screwed and your dead." Darby Glared at her employees and, so called 'friends.' These people who made her work possible. "If we can snag her father as well it would be duly beneficial. And we stick with the original plan! The only thing that has changed is location. So figure it out." As she left the room, Darby's red ball gown whispered against the tile and her presumably high heels smacked the ground with an oddly menacing _thwack_.

"Do you think she'll kill him if she ever finds him?" asked a girl named Brittany with long, brown hair.

"Yes."


End file.
